Temporary Absolution
by Tokugawa Blitzer
Summary: Under all the diplomacy, politics, duty, and the stress and sin in between we are only mortal beings. Explore the flowering relationship between Cullen and the Inquisitor. F!Trevelyan/Cullen, eventual pairing. SFW
1. My Friend

**Chapter Inspired by: Tristam - My Friend**

**Eventual romance between my female warrior Inquisitor and Cullen. Begins after the events of Haven. Most aspects are cannon, but at this point I've manipulated a lot of dialog and events to fit my needs, and to make it feel less mechanical and video gamey.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The evening was dreadfully cold, the night sky overcast with clouds stretching far of into the distance. It was getting late yet the courtyard below still seemed busy. Soldiers and civilians still trying to settle down in their new home at Skyhold.

_It wasn't as if it was planned_, Vaelyn thought to herself morbidly. If it were not for Solas and his invaluable knowledge, they'd all be sleeping in the snow right about now. At least the buildings and towers were mostly intact. No one would be getting frostbite this night.

The past three days had bee exhausting for the newly promoted Inquisitor; moving supplies, assigning sleeping accommodations, assessing current situations and exploring the areas around and inside Skyhold, and bloody paper work. Vaelyn hadn't slept a wink, never having the chance to find a secluded spot where there wasn't someone asking after her about _something_. Even now, sitting on the battlements of this fortress she found her self unable to doze off.

She tugged the ratty blanket tighter, armor allowing, around her upper body and huddled closer into the corner where the walls connected.

_Maker's balls_ was it cold.

She insisted to bear the cold, only to steal time alone for herself. Ever since the events of Haven, people oogled and ogled her at every turn, asking if she was ok, or what it was like facing down a Darkspawn and his Archdemon. The whispers we grating on her nerves. She had half a mind to draw her great sword and flay people. Vaelyn chuckled quietly, what would the people think of her then?

"Might I inquire what you find so funny, my lady?"

Vaelyn shot a look towards the intruder whom invaded her stolen moment of peace, shooting a glare. It was Cullen, there was a crooked smile on his face. It was rare to see such a stoic man as him, smile even a little.

She decided to humor the commander, "I was thinking about using my sword on the next person who interrupted my peace and quiet."

The commander stood there for a moment and considered the statement, his crooked smile morphing into a mischievous grin. "I come bearing a peace offering then," holding up one of the ceramic cups in his hand, steam rising out of the opening.

Vaelyn thought about it for a moment then tilted her head a bit to the right, motioning for Cullen to have a seat. The inquisitor decided that she didn't mind it so much if the commander kept her company for a bit.

Cullen made his way over to Vaelyn, handing over one of the cups filled with a dark tea which she accepted gratefully. He sat down next to her as she took a sip of the scalding liquid.

"How _did_ you find me, Commander?" Vaelyn asked, wrinkling her nose as she drank her tea, it burned her throat on its way down. Heavily laced with whiskey she noted.

Cullen watched her out of the corner of his eye as he took a large gulp from his own cup. "You aren't very good at sneaking about." He stated wryly.

Vaelyn snorted derisively, ignoring the levity of her adviser. Her mind swirled a bit, Cullen must have put more alcohol than tea in the cups, she felt a buzz coming on; she welcomed it, and appreciated the thought. They both fell into a comfortable silence, and Vaelyn relished it. It was not likely that she would have more moments like these, the storm was just beginning with no calm in sight. It would be a miracle if she'd ever have peace again.

Vaelyn also wondered silently how the Commander had such a calming presence about him. It was refreshing and intriguing, taking another gulp of her tea. She was certain that she was tipsy now. "You may have put too much whiskey in the tea." Vaelyn mumbled into her cup, finishing the last of her drink.

"It was intentional, I assure you, inquisitor." Cullen replied with a slight mirth in his voice, finishing his own cup. She couldn't hold alcohol well it seemed.

Exhaustion was finally catching up to her, her eye lids began to droop and her head began to bob. Cullen kept a careful eye on her, plucking the cup from her slackened hands just before she dropped it to the stone. He knew she hadn't slept since they'd arrived, wondering all the while how she was able to carry out so much labor with out dropping to the ground like a felled tree.

Vaelyn let out a big yawn, unable to control herself any longer. Sleep sounded fantastic right now. "I would prefer it if you used my name, not one of those stupid titles..." She slurred in a whisper before passing out. Her body leaning into Cullen's side, head sagging on to his fur mantle covered pauldron.

He found it rather endearing.

"As you wish, my lady." He smirked, bringing up his free arm to brush stray hair from her face. "Vaelyn." He whispered.

It wasn't really an ideal spot to sleep, but for now he'd stay like this and be the sturdy rock that she needed. For the first time in a long time Cullen felt oddly content, sitting here like this; perhaps he would make a habit out of it.

A yawn escaped from him, allowing his head to rest against Vaelyn's, falling into his own, rare peaceful bliss.


	2. One Last Time

**Chapter inspired by: One Last Time - Amarante**

* * *

Vaelyn sat in a chair at the front of the war table staring at the letter she laid there two hours ago. There was a forlorn air about her and a monstrous typhoon swirled in her eyes. It took every bit of mental strength she could afford not to flip the table over, not wreck the entirety of the room. She could handle the ridiculousness of the situation she'd ended up in, but this. This was too much.

She beat down the surging anger that threatened to ignite with in her, choking the roar of hatred that tried to crawl out of her throat. That vile piece of parchment just sat there mocking her, taunting her. Her hands swiftly picked it up, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it against the chamber wall.

She hadn't heard the large doors open nor did she see them open as she was facing away from the entrance, not noticing a guest silently joining her in the war room. A figure in her peripheral vision sauntered over to the abused parchment and snatched it up off there floor, trying to straighten it out. Vaelyn was already half out of her chair in an attempt to reclaim what was hers, but to her horror she discovered that it was Cullen who picked up her letter; she froze and her stomach painfully knotted up.

There was a long agonizing silence, it nearly shredded what little resolve Vaelyn had, then her anger flared up again recklessly. She steeled herself and stormed over to her military advisor, ripping the parchment from his grasp. Cullen flinched, taking a step back to examine the Inquisitor, her behavior was odd he noted.

She ignored the questioning gleam in his eye, turning away from Cullen. Vaelyn knew deep down that she was being impulsive, handling this situation completely wrong, endangering her budding relationship with the commander. Her face burned with embarrassment and fury, the words of apology stuck in her throat. Cullen spoke first.

"I should not have imposed, my lady." Cullen was unsure what more he could say to relieve the building tension. He blindly crossed a line that he did not know was present, and now she was livid.

"No, you should not have," she bit back automatically, defensively.

Cullen winced.

Before anymore words could be spoken, and before her emotions got completely out of hand, Vaelyn sprinted out of the war room; the doors slammed back into the walls, the sound resonating in the spacious hallway as she made her hasty exit. He remained, a pensive look hung upon his features as he stared at the open doors. Dejected, he slowly followed the same path out of the chamber, contemplating the hatred he felt reading that letter as he walked.

_My dearest daughter,_

_It has come to my immediate attention that you are apart of that dreadful inquisition I've heard so _

_much about. Our family has always had strong ties to the Chantry here in Ostwick, and I was utterly _

_ashamed to find out from the Revered Mother herself that you, my eldest daughter was this heretical _

_Herald of Andraste people keep talking about. I will not allow this charade to continue, I demand that _

_you return home immediately and drop this disgraceful ploy. I will not allow my rebellious daughter to _

_continue sullying the Trevelyan name with Sacrilege. Mark my words child, I will not hesitate to _

_renounce you should you choose to defy my wishes._

_With great disappointment,_

_Mother_

* * *

Cullen sat at his cluttered desk, unable to concentrate on any of the reports that piled up. A couple of hours passed since the little ordeal in the war room, he wasn't able to focus at all; the backlog of reports and letters from just a few hours could attest to how busy he should have been.

He felt guilty.

When he went looking for the Inquisitor he wasn't intending to offend her so profusely, knowingly anyway. How could he have known that the letter contained such...such contempt? The reaction that Vaelyn had was disconcerting, and his heart sank for her. Surely the Inquisitor's mother wasn't serious? It must have been a ruse, he tried to assure himself. Even that lie he tried to force on himself couldn't calm the anxiety that spilled over him now. The growing relationship between himself and Vaelyn, though seemingly platonic, may have suffered a critical blow. How could he ever hope to fix this, he pondered that thought solemnly.

Cullen let out an exasperated sigh. He was the military commander for the Inquisition, he'd been a templar for many a year, fought all sorts of enemies. He was the Lion of Fereldan for fucks sake, yet how could he hope to stand against this threat to his feelings and his honor? Cullen was unsure how to go about approaching Vaelyn anyway.

Without hope and a plan. "Pathetic," he snorted bitterly.

When he looked down to try and focus on the report sitting under his quill, his brows furrowed deeply noticing that he scribbled all over the parchment. The stick figure sketch of him hanging by his neck on the gallows was an apt depiction of his attitude right now. He needed some fresh air and something to eat he concluded.

Cullen stood up, chair groaning as it was pushed away from the desk. He made his way out of his office and towards the tavern, opting out of having to deal with snobby nobles and talkative keep residents in the keep's main hall. The tavern was pretty tame most nights, it had many secluded areas where he could duck in and not be noticed. A fantastic idea in theory, but not in practice. When he got a chance to sit down and eat his meal and keep from drinking himself into a stupor, his hiding place was immediately invaded.

"What's up, Curly." Varric greeted, pulling out another chair at the table and plopping down into it.

Cullen shot the dwarven invader a pointed look, then chose to take another bite of his stew instead.

"Yeesh. One of those nights, eh?" The dwarf chuckled jovially. "I saw the Inquisitor storm out of the keep earlier. Nearly knocked a noble off the landing as she exited, it was quite the spectacle. You wouldn't know anything about that, would ya?"

"Why do you assume I had something to do with her hasty retreat?" Cullen retorted coolly towards the veiled accusation. Varric smirked knowingly, that infuriated Cullen.

"It was only a question, no need to get defensive."

There was a pregnant pause then. Varric had a way with people, they just spilled their guts to him. The dwarf was a bigger gossip monger than the soldiers _and _the women; Varric would deny it with the argument that he was merely a story teller. A weaver of the whimsical.

"I may have accidentally read a very personal and uh...angry letter addressed to the Lady Inquisitor, from her mother." Cullen confessed, his face screwed up in irritation and he cursed himself mentally for his weakness to seek aid on the matter; from the mischievous dwarf no less.

"Oh ho ho, is that all?" Varric snickered. "For a moment there I thought it was something worse, like walking in on her while she changed."

Cullen blushed a bit, if he'd done that, then the Inquisition would be in the market for a new military commander. Vaelyn had quite the temper after all, it was not an understatement.

"Her mother is threatening to disown her if she continues to affiliate herself with the Inquisition." He stated grimly.

Varric rubbed his chin for a moment, mulling over the fact. "I suppose that could be a problem, she is from a wealthy, chantry centric family after all. Having her daughter leading a group of supposed heretics would cause a conflict of interest, I'd imagine."

Before he could catch himself, Cullen spoke, "How do I fix this?" _Maker's balls _he sounded like a pathetic teenager.

"Talking to her would be a good start," Jokingly he added, "assuming she doesn't ring your neck first."

Cullen's face paled at the thought, Varric's statement wasn't far off from the truth, even said in jest.

Was it really that simple, just talking to her? Lately he felt himself stumbling more and more over his words when they talked privately. Cullen was unsure that he'd be able to smooth things over without unduly making things worse.

"I am not certain that would work." Cullen said quietly.

Varric scoffed, "You don't give yourself enough credit, Curly. It might not seem like it now, but she respects you." He spoke truthfully. "If you went to her, I'm absolutely positive she'd listen."

In the dwarf's words, the commander heard confidence. Out of all the Inquisitors companions, Varric was the most honest and grounded person. While he wouldn't readily admit it to people, Cullen actually appreciated the story teller's advice and opinions on certain matters every now and then.

"I don't suppose you know where she's hiding..." Cullen inquired.

"That's the spirit!" Varric exclaimed with approval. "I saw her sneak away to the western end of the battlements. As per usual."

Cullen picked up the bits of his courage, giving a curt nod to Varric, and strode out of the tavern to find Vaelyn. The remnants of his dinner and Varric were quickly forgotten.

"Go get the girl, Curly." Varric chuckled, shaking his head with mild amusement.

* * *

The sun finally settled in for the night, bright stars gleamed upon the velvety blanket of night. It was peaceful up here on the battlements during the evening, especially on this part of the wall. Very few guards patrolled it at night, preferring to keep watch over the area where the portcullis was. The wind was a bit nippy, but Vaelyn liked how it gently rushed by her as she contemplated life. She felt unhindered by the problems of the world, free from the weight of death and suffering. This night she did not feel any of those things.

Pitiful was the word that strongly stood out to her, and self-loathing was starting to make its appearance known.

"Maker's breath." Vaelyn sighed with defeat.

She'd blame her mother for the awful mood, Cullen was just collateral damage. It pained her every time she recounted the events of this afternoon, it was at least the tenth time she thought about it. Vaelyn always bore a fiery attitude, apparent right after exiting the womb. As she got older she'd become more stubborn and her temper was almost legendary back home. All those poor suitors; her rampage rivaled that of a high dragon.

Vaelyn was too lost in thought to notice that Cullen joined her out on her part of the wall.

He was nervous but it couldn't be helped, he was already here. "My lady..." Cullen cleared his throat and readdressed her "...Vaelyn."

She tensed up and a feeling of dread rolled over her, nearly consuming her. She fought the dark thoughts off and faced her greatest fear, silently praying to the Maker or whatever higher being that might have existed that Cullen would not abandon her.

"Commander," Vaelyn said breathlessly, staring into those impassioned amber eyes. His presence was entirely unexpected but not unwelcome.

Being addressed by his own title made Cullen flinch. It was impersonal for such privacy and his stomach flip flopped. "We... I need to...uhh...talk" he stammered awkwardly. _Bollocks! Get a grip already. _He scolded himself. "I wanted to apologize for intruding on you earlier, my Lady. I had no intentions of invading your privacy, I completely overstepped my boundaries..."

Vaelyn pursed her lips, she wanted to halt his rambling apology but found it to be rather adorable. At some point she needed to get a word in on this conversation though. Cullen could not take any of the blame here.

"I would not argue against a harsh reprimand should you see fit to do so." The Inquisitor held up a hand, stopping him there.

"You should not be the one to apologize, Cullen." She said softly, "I was the one who reacted poorly, over a stupid letter no less. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and for that I am very sorry."

"I should not have read that parchment, I am..." He tried to find another reason to apologize to her, but she would have none of it. Vaelyn took the few steps in front of her to clap a hand over his mouth adamantly.

"Please, none of this is your fault." She said sternly. "I don't want you taking any of this blame." She was whispering now and averting her eyes.

When her arm slackened just a bit, Cullen brought his own hand up to grasp hers, pulling it away from his mouth so he could speak. "That letter," he began, still holding on to her hand, unconsciously blocking her escape. "Your mother wasn't serious, was she?" He ask incredulously.

Her eyes snapped back to his, Cullen was confronting her with that stare. The same gaze he used when looking at the world map in the war room just before a battle. With a clenched jaw she hissed "True. Every bloody word of it."

The emotional dam that Vaelyn built up over the years began to bend and heave, micro fractures becoming serious cracks. She did not want Cullen to see how awful her life really was, what a disappointment she was to her family, to mother. Her eyes began to water rebelliously and she tilted her chin downward; her dark tresses falling into her face, hiding her sorrow.

Cullen's heart wrenched as he witnessed the Inquisitor's mask break for the first time since meeting her. Watching those tears form at the corner of her eyes after making such a deep admittance was heart breaking. This was not the way he had expected their conversation to go, she was suppose to be mad at him; hate him even.

Without thinking about it, Cullen stepped forward, further closing the gap between them and brought his free hand up to brush back Vaelyn's long dark hair behind her ear. He let the hand slide gently to her chin to grasp it firmly with his fingers, bringing her face up so he could stare into those anguish filled, chocolate eyes. The dam shattered and more than a decades worth of tumultuous feelings rushed forward violently, down into the valley of her heart.

Vaelyn sobbed then, unable to beat back the tears that now gushed over like a waterfall. Years of denied feelings wracked her body savagely.

Cullen did something out of character then. He bent forward and kissed her forehead reverently; a warmth balled up in his stomach, unable to keep himself from tugging her into a tight embrace. He let his head rest against hers, pivoting a bit to plant another kiss on her head.

Vaelyn allowed her arms to loop around Cullen, completing the embrace, hugging him tighter all the while sobbing into the fur draped around his shoulders.

They stayed like that for a while longer, he supporting her silently and she trying to regain her composure. One of these days Cullen would solve that mystery known as Vaelyn Trevelyan, and perhaps one day he too would share his troubled past.

Those days still remained far away, yet now Cullen had hope for the future.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So when I wrote the first piece that I considered a one shot at the time, I hadn't considered that it would end up being a pretty good premise for a story. I think I have a pretty good idea where I want to go with this, I just hope that it's good enough.**

**I also wanted to take the time to get into a little more detail with the way I perceive my own Inquisitor, as I failed to do so in the first. She's had a troubled past, nothing completely over the top but, enough to give her a little more depth. The game doesn't really give you much freedom in terms of main character story, just a template but that kind of gives us writers a chance to flesh our heroes out more. **

**I really just wanted to write my own romance for my Inquisitor and Cullen, I don't think the in game romance does the pairing true justice. I will do my best to rectify that while trying to stay as close to cannon as possible but making the characters more compelling to the best of my ability.**

**I've gone ahead and changed the name to make this official. No longer a one shot.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Stay tuned for future chapters.**


	3. Headlock

Chapter inspired by: **Headlock - Imogen Heap**

* * *

Vaelyn sat at her desk in her quarters, feet upon the surface and chair tipped backwards, leafing through the massive tome of creatures on her lap. She'd just finished adding another entry after returning to Skyhold from several weeks of trudging through Crestwood.

Her party was just about to leave Caer Bronach with their loose ends all tied up, but a massive Highdragon flew directly over their heads and right on by to the ruins in the southern end of the region. The new residents of the freshly reclaimed keep were in an uproar and there was but a single solution. Kill it.

Iron Bull was hardly the voice of reason, Vaelyn was already a bit reckless without the encouragement. It didn't take much convincing from the overly excited Qunari to get her to chase after the winged bastard, all the while Varric and Dorian went over all the possible ways that they'd all horribly die. The battle was long but went well of course, the party only receiving minor injuries; Vaelyn earned a pretty gash across her left bicep, armor unable to completely protect her from those monstrous claws.

She glanced over all the entries of past enemies they'd fought against as she turned the heavy pages, remembering each and every battle fondly. She carefully scrutinized the finer details of the newest addition in her bestiary tome, humming appreciatively. Vaelyn wasn't sure she would have been able to remember the details of the dragon accurately to be able to sketch it. Later her and Bull would get together and go over the strategy bits and ink it in for posterity sake, information on some of the rarer beings of the world was vague and might as well be considered non-existent.

Setting down the thick tome, she picked up her personal sketch book and prepared to draft out the brooding silhouette of the ruins that sat on the cliff. The same ruins where she fought that magnificent beast. Should just couldn't get the scenery out of her head once the overcast broke.

Just before the first lines were drawn, Vaelyn's head snapped up when the door to her quarters was flung open unceremoniously. She expected her visitor to be Leliana or Cullen with important news or some such, but when she heard the giggling invader bounding up the stairs, she immediately knew who it was.

"I got it! I got it!" Sera squealed with utter glee as she pranced up the last stair and danced over to the Inquisitor's desk.

"Wai...What?" Vaelyn slid her feet back to the floor and let her chair fall back to all fours.

"I got it!" Sera repeated this time bringing her hidden arm out from behind her back. She held the balled up crimson fabric, tufts of dark fur poking out here and there.

"You didn't..." and realization dawned on the Inquisitor. "You did!" She squawked nearly jumping out of her seat.

Ever since meeting Cullen she'd been silently pining, trying to get her hands on the damned cloak thing, and it seemed as though Sera entertained a similar idea. "How did you get it!" Vaelyn inquired, eyeing the prize intently.

"Pretty easy to nab when grumpy is bathing! Just had to help with the gettin dirty, easy stuff, innit." She sang, making Vaelyn blush.

Sera untangled her conquest, taking extra care to smooth out the wrinkles and ruffling the fur back into normalcy. "Dunno how he can wear this thing all the time, kinda girly."

Vaelyn snorted.

There was another loud ruckus down the stairs again, this time colorful words and heavy foot falls rang out. Sera panicked and threw the furry cloak at Vaelyn, catching the Inquisitor unawares, hitting her face with it; getting strands of fur in her mouth.

"Gotta run! Hide the evidence!" the rogue cackled and made a beeline for the balcony.

The Inquisitor floundered for a brief second before opening one of the desk drawers and stuffing the cloak down into it, slamming it shut, and trying to pick the fur out of her mouth; attempting to regain a shred of her composure before the newest intruder appeared at her landing.

Vaelyn turned an inhuman shade of red then and slapped a hand over her mouth. Cullen apparently noticed Sera after his belongings, but for the life of her, the Inquisitor couldn't understand why the Commander was traipsing around Skyhold in nothing but his boots and breeches.

Cullen was oblivious to the Inquisitor's fluster, coming to stand next to her desk; he was a little winded from the wild goose chase, a light blush colored his cheeks and his hair was tousled and curly, missing its product.

"I saw Sera run up here, have you seen her?" his words coming out breathy.

_Andraste's __sweet __tits._ Vaelyn shook her head zealously, it was all she could manage without combusting right there.

"When I find her...I'm going to..." Cullen growled then turned on his heel and marched right back over and down the stairs.

Vaelyn couldn't make out the rest of his ramblings, but she sincerely doubted that he'd find her. Nor would he discover that it was she who had his silly cloak.

She stood up, placing her sketch book on her desk, and headed out of her quarters to deal with inquisition business; failing to see Sera creeping back in from the balcony.

* * *

Cullen felt...naked without the cloak that usually adorned his shoulders.

The armor that he donned was rather plain without the article, it was just something that Harritt put together so he could replace his older, well used Templar armor.

"Commander."

"I..yes...what is it?" He growled.

"Some elf outside, Sera I think, asked me to give this to you." The young solider stepped over to the Commander's desk and held out the item.

Cullen eyed the offered item, secretly investigating what he could see of it before taking into his own hand. It appeared to be a normal book, having the appearance of a journal. Turning it around in his hands revealed no title or indication of an owner. He presumed that it was stolen if Sera was the one giving it to him.

"You are dismissed, and if you see Sera again tell her she had better return what belongs to me or suffer the consequences." He threatened, the young man bolted out of the door to avoid any more of his Commander's ire.

Alone now, Cullen opened the front cover carefully. The inside of the cover was blank, except for that little inscription neatly written at the bottom corner.

_Property of V. T._

The Commander promptly closed the cover and tossed it upon the cluttered surface of his desk. He glared at the inanimate objected as if it offended his mother, he was going to kill Sera for both his cloak and for giving him an item that could spell his doom. Something at the back of his mind insisted that he look at the contents of the book that lay innocently there. Cullen tried to deter himself from the nagging curiosity, the chance to see the more personal side of the lady Inquisitor was difficult to pass up.

_Surely you would **not** pass up such a chance. _His mischievous self argued.

_Surely you are not suggesting I make such an obscene breach of confidence._ He rebuked.

_What harm could be done if you just took a quick peek?_ The other him chuckled darkly. _You will return it to her when you get the chance, your honor demands it after all._ _She wouldn't even know..._

_Maker's balls! _Cullen cursed, picking up the offending object.

When he glanced through the first few pages he noticed two things. The first was that this was in fact not a journal it was a book of sketches. The realization forced him to exhale the breath that he had unconsciously been holding. The second thing he noticed was that the sketches were _very_ good. Vaelyn was quite talented.

With each new page turn he discovered remarkably well done and very realistic drawings of many people within the Inquisition. Cullen counted the many times someone appeared on the pages, Varric was in there a few times with different expressions. Cassandra and the other companions of the Inquisitor also made an appearance.

He counted himself...five times, nope this was the sixth drawing of himself. In all but one drawing he was serious, a frown upon his face, a normal expression for him. The other however was the only one where he was grinning. He was in awe of the beautiful detail that Vaelyn captured him in.

The eyes of the sketch version of him were gleaming with mirth, and the grin was one of true happiness. It was weird seeing himself in such a state, he had very little to be happy about. Or so he told himself.

He was more interested in _why_ the Inquisitor bothered to draw him in the first place.

A loud, hurried knock on the door to his office startled him, interrupting his thoughts. Cullen snapped the book closed and threw it into one his desk drawers he managed to pull open just as the door swung open.

"Ah! Inquisitor." Cullen greeted with immense strain. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Vaelyn looked quite perturbed.

"I don't suppose you've seen Sera? She's taken something rather important from me."

Cullen sympathized with her,"I'm afraid I have not, my lady." Vaelyn's brow furrowed with irritation.

"Might I inquire as to what it was the elf stole?" There was a deep seated feeling in the pit of his stomach that he already knew what she was missing.

"It's a book, burgundy in color, looks similar to a journal. My initials are on the inside of the front cover..." She explained in exact detail.

Cullen swallowed thickly, "I'll keep a look out for it then, shall I, Inquisitor?"

"I...uh, your help is greatly appreciated Cullen." She smiled weakly and quickly left the office without another word.

When she was gone, Cullen dropped his elbows upon the desk and buried his face in his hands.

"Maker preserve me."

* * *

"Job's done, now what shorty?"

"Now we just sit back and enjoy the show." Varric chuckled.

This could go one of two ways. The first being that Cullen and the Inquisitor would figure out that he was manipulating the whole situation; in which case, the consequences would be dire. The other, Cullen and the Inquisitor _don't _discover his machination and they would...well do mushy stuff. Either way, it would make a good read in one of his serials.

"Kinda boring, innit, just sittin around waiting for them to do something."

"It'll be worth it in the end, Buttercup." Varric assured her.

As if on cue, the door to the staircase that led to the Inquisitor's quarters was pulled open. Vaelyn stepped out onto the dais, and upon her shoulders sat Cullen's missing mantle. With an impassive expression glued to her features, she marched down the few steps and towards the second door on her right, to the war room; the ends of the cloak dragging behind.

He may have let it slip to the Inquisitor that Cullen was in possession of her missing item.

"How are we gonna know what's happening if they're in that stupid room?" Sera sneered.

"I have enlisted the help of two wonderful young ladies who were more than willing to share the details of the war council." He expected it to be quite the interesting story.

* * *

The Inquisitor called a meeting that evening to debrief on the Crestwood expedition, and to figure out what their next move was.

Cullen had been the last advisor to show up, the inquisitor's book in tow. He meant to hand it over to her after the meeting, the most opportune moment. The few minutes he waited for the Inquisitor to actually show up were almost unbearable. Leliana and Josephine hounded him about his _new_ look. If he wasn't so concerned about Vaelyn he'd almost consider that his fellow advisors were behind the theft of his cloak; with Sera's help of course.

When the door finally swung open Cullen reflexively moved his hand onto the book sitting at the edge of the massive table.

Josephine could do nothing but cover her mouth when she looked upon the image of the lady Inquisitor standing in the doorway, the Commander's cloak draped around her shoulders. It was almost a perfect impression of someone else she knew. Leliana smiled with her whats-your-next-move grin, arms crossed over her chest.

Vaelyn's placid expression morphed into one of annoyance when she spotted a book sitting under a guarded hand. Her eyes followed the arm up to the Commander's eyes and pinned him with a fierce glare.

"So you _did_ have it!" Vaelyn accused.

"Yes...I mean no! No I did not have it!" Cullen tried to explain helplessly. He looked to both Josephine and Leliana for assistance, but he found none.

The angry look upon her face, and the cloak flowing around her ominously had his heart skipping beats.

"Cullen." Vaelyn spoke with a dead calm. "I find it hard to believe that you had and not had it." She made her way fully into the room now, closing the heavy doors behind her as the Commander tried to placate the false accusations.

"Well you see, my lady, this morning..." Cullen began, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "One of my men was given the book, by Sera, who insisted that it be brought to me."

"Yet you did not return it, why is that?"

There was a mischievous glint in her eye now, Leliana noticed.

"Surely we can put this behind us, my lady..."

Vaelyn quickly interrupted him with a question of her own, "Did you look?"

"Did I what?" Cullen said dumbly.

"Did. You. Look?" She enunciated.

"Errr...I uhhh, may have peeked?"

_Wrong_. "So not only did you lie to me, but you looked through my personal property?" The Inquisitor said casually. The rate at which Vaelyn's tempter went from active volcano to iceberg put Cullen under greater unease.

"If you return that which is mine, I will forgive your grievances." She offered cordially.

He all but threw the blasted thing into her welcoming hand, having no desire to die this day.

Now that the book was back with its rightful owner, Vaelyn turned on her heel and marched for the door, Cullen's cloak still sitting upon her shoulders. Some how surviving their first skirmish, he wasn't doing himself any favors when he called back out to her.

"Inquisitor, if I may, I've returned what belongs to you and now I would very much like my cloak back, if you please." He ventured daringly.

She stopped then, turning her self enough to look back on Cullen and simply replied, "I do not remember agreeing to such terms, Commander." She smirked.

Cullen scowled but a thought occurred to him. "My lady, may I inquire as to why there are so many drawings of me in that book of yours?"

Vaelyn's victorious grin dissolved then, as did her assertive aura. With thoughts of revenge she had forgotten about those drawings and did not expect Cullen to bring it up like this, in front of an audience. He so easily turned the tides and she gave him the opening. In reality, there really was nothing for her to be embarrassed about, it was irrational, but the Commander only said just enough to get the gears of the rumor mill lurching to a start; that thought was far more ruinous. She silently cursed her self for taking more notice of Cullen's manly features as of late.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Commander." Vaelyn weakly denied.

_Got her. _"I really liked the second one, but I don't remember taking any of my armor off, or my clothes for that matter." he bluffed, but neither Leliana nor Josephine had to know.

Vaelyn paled considerably, nearly wrenching the silly book open to make sure no such drawing existed. There were no other moves to be made, he won the battle. Never in her life did she move as swiftly as she did now. In only a few movements she had the cloak off her back and balled up, and did not hesitate to throw said ball of fabric and fur at the Commander's chest.

Like a spooked halla, she dashed out of the room.

Josephine turned to pin Cullen with a scandalized look, almost mortified for the Inquisitor. "Is it true?!"

Cullen chuckled and eventually filled the room with his deep laughter.

* * *

**Note:**

**For some reason this chapter didn't turn out like I thought it would. I suppose it's not really disappointment, but I believe I could have written it better. Was suppose to be the Inquisitor pulling a prank or two on Cullen, but it ended up as Varric pulling the strings. Always looking for the next juicy idea.**

**This chapter REALLY made me want to steal Cullen's cloak too. **

**Next chapter might end up getting serious again, we shall see!**


	4. Keep Holding On

Chapter Inspiration: **Avril Lavigne - Keep Holding On**

* * *

"Another!"

"Not sure ye should be havin anymore, yer Worship." Cabot warned.

"On th-the contrary, dear dwarf, I could use uhh- a lot _more_." Vaelyn slurred with drunken irritation, waving her empty cup around.

The tavern keep eyed her for a moment before steadying the Inquisitor's arm, pouring more ale into her cup, the excess sloshing over the edge and onto the table. The hour was growing late and the tavern was dead, very few patrons filled the tables; none dared to bother Vaelyn where she sat, closest to the alcohol, drinking herself under the table. In a rare moment of despair she let recent events get to her.

She gulped down the contents of the cup and promptly demanded more. "Another!"

"You'll be havin no more my lady, next supply shipment ain't gonna be in fer a few weeks and I'll not have the Inquisitor bleedin the tavern dry." Cabot said gruffly, "'Sides, it's not good fer a pretty lass such as yer self to be drinkin so much alcohol." He argued smartly.

"I've made plenty of sacks- sacrifices for the Inquisition, it's only right that the tavern sacrifices its precious ale to me." Vaelyn retorted childishly.

Cabot sighed in defeat as he poured the Inquisitorialness another cup, the final cup he told himself adamantly. He really shouldn't have been feeding her the ale in the first place. He'd seen plenty of recruits and seasoned soldiers come through here in a similar manner; drinking them selves into tomorrow to drown out the pain and the sorrow of war. He would not allow for such behavior to seed itself in this one.

He moved out from behind the table and made for the tavern's front exit. Luckily for him he didn't have to go far, an on duty solider was passing by.

"Oi, lad could ye do me a favor?" Cabot beckoned the young man over.

"Ser?"

"Go fetch the Commander fer me would ya, got a problem here in the tavern that'll be needin his attention."

"If you'd like I cou-" The young solider started politely before Cabot interrupted him.

"No lad, it's gotta be the Commander. Let him know that Cabot'll be needin his assistance" The dwarf insisted.

"Right away, Ser."

Cabot retraced his steps back into the tavern, ignoring the Inquisitor's demands for more ale as he walked back around the table. There was nothing he could do to console the Inquisitor, beyond making sure she had no more to drink. It was a familiar scenario for the aging dwarf; calling in the Commander to talk those high strung recruits down, or keep those cracking veteran fighters from falling apart completely. Cabot only poured the ale and kept the rowdy patrons at bay, he did not baby sit drunkards nor inebriated Inquisitors.

The dwarf didn't have to wait long before the tavern door was pushed open and the familiar visage of the Commander marched in. When their eyes met, Cabot jerked his head towards the slumped human sitting at his serving table. Vaelyn's arms rested on the surface and her head was bowed forward, seemingly disconnected from this world, dwelling in her own.

When he received the dwarf's familiar message, Cullen was prepared to give another one his soldiers the talk. He was not expecting that it would be Vaelyn that he'd have to give it to. He advanced to the table and sat in a vacant stool to the right of the Inquisitor. Cullen gave Cabot a curt nod and the dwarf disappeared into the back room, allowing them a bit of privacy.

"Inquisitor," he began, turning himself towards her and leaning against the table.

Vaelyn cocked her head towards Cullen and grimaced, "_bloody_ dwarf tattled." she mumbled angrily, looking away again.

"He did the right thing, you shouldn't be doing this." He reasoned, thinking about the best way to handle Vaelyn. She was no soldier under his command.

"You're wrong," she growled, "this is exactly what I _should_ be doing."

"I disagree, this is what people do when they run away from their problems." He countered.

"And what would you know about such things?" Vaelyn spat venomously, the alcohol clearly affecting her attitude.

Cullen's lips pressed into a hard line, trying to keep himself in check, not wanting to be baited into a ridiculous argument about who had it worse; him or her. She needed someone who understood what she was dealing with, their paths might have curved and twisted different directions to get to this point, but they both had their rough patches. He would have to appeal to her with his own inner darkness.

"You'd be surprised," he said evenly, "I have a great understanding of what you're going through, and I can safely say that drinking won't solve anything."

It had been a long time since the blight, the Circle, and Kirkwall, but the memories still burned under his skin and they terrorized his dreams every night, forcing him to relive every single second of them; each turning him to the sweet embrace of alcohol.

"It numbs the pain." Vaelyn said in a near whisper, each word filled with more sorrow than the next.

"For a short time yes," he murmured back, "but it returns ten fold and then you keep drinking, thinking maybe this time the ale and liquor will work, perhaps the pain will magically go away. Hoping...praying that the memories will fade away and you won't have to see the faces, or hear the screams any longer." Cullen admitted sadly.

Vaelyn was solemn, a contemplative mood rested upon her. She considered his words carefully under the drunken haze she threw herself into, but she found it hard to focus on the things she heard behind his wall, the things he hadn't spoken of.

The room began to spin, and whatever thoughts she had on the matter were lost, Vaelyn grasped her head between her hands and shut her eyes tightly. Her equilibrium was thrown just for a moment, but it was just enough to send her tumbling off her own stool. Cullen's reflexes were quick enough for him to react, shooting out his left arm to brace her fall and his right hand gripping her bicep.

"Ughh," Vaelyn groaned, all the spinning was beginning to make her sick.

"I think we should take a walk, you could use the air." Cullen suggested.

Vaelyn didn't protest when the Commander stood her upright again, nor did she protest when he kept an arm around her shoulders for support, just in case the dizziness returned. He guided her slowly out of the tavern, to Cabot's relief, and into the darkened courtyard. It was a bit cold, but the fresh air seemed to help clear some of the alcohol haze from her mind. The warmth that radiated off of Cullen was now distracting her, and when she shivered he unconsciously tightened his arm around her, bringing her closer to himself.

"Isn't very gentlemen like, not lending a lady your cloak." Vaelyn remarked.

Cullen snorted, "I'm not sure I can trust you with it, my lady."

She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like _blame Sera, _Cullen wasn't entirely sure.

He escorted Vaelyn the long way around to her quarters, going through the courtyard, around near the stables, and through the kitchen. The main hall was empty, but it was more so she could walk off as much of the alcohol polluting her system; he still expected her to have quite the hangover in the morning.

Going up the few flights of stairs to her room was rather entertaining for Cullen. The Inquisitor just couldn't seem to get the hang of them while drunk, he ended up carrying her over his shoulder the rest of the way. She protested the entire journey.

When they were in the privacy of her quarters Cullen dropped her back onto her feet, steadying her before stealing a spot at the end of the sofa. He sat on the edge and dropped his elbows onto his knees, clasping his hands together and resting his chin upon them.

"If you need to talk, Vaelyn, you know I'll listen." He encouraged, staring up at her with those warm amber eyes.

The sound of her name upon his lips sobered her, she let her gaze slip down to his and held it. "Who am I to decide who the Emperor or Empress of Orlais should be? Why am I the one who must stop a country's civil war when its leaders aren't even capable of doing it themselves?"

Cullen could hear the Inquisitor's voice crack as she continued on with her venting, watching as she started to pace, moving her arms animatedly as she went.

"Is this just a game to them? To play with people's lives as if they are pieces on a chess board, to tear their lands up and crush its people under foot..." Vaelyn made a disgusted sound and plopped down onto the sofa next to Cullen. "Emprise du Lion was a mess, I can't even begin to express how much I wanted to run Mistress Poulin through." She admitted shamefully.

Cullen knew first hand how awful the debacle in the Winter Palace had been, though he did regret not taking the chance he'd been given to dance with Vaelyn.

The rest of what she spoke of he'd only read in her reports, he couldn't fully imagine how brutal the lyrium quarry in Emprise du Lion was; the idea of someone selling land to the Red Templars in the first place was appalling. The bulk of the civil war taking place in the Exalted Plains fed the army of undead that had been arisen thanks to demons, the thought brought back memories of what he had experienced after the Temple of Sacred Ashes was blown into the fade. Too much death for an eternity.

"This...everything is just... so overwhelming." Vaelyn sighed heavily, the weight of the world that she carried seemed to force the air out of her body.

"I know." Cullen placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently in small circles.

"When I agreed to this," the Inquisitor started again, bringing her fade scarred hand up to stare at it bitterly, "to finish what was started, I'd only thought about fighting Corypheus. Never did I realize I'd have to solve everyone's problems."

"You should see the paper work sitting on my desk, then. It multiplies every time I walk into my office." The Commander chuckled, earning a small smirk from her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to complain Cullen, you're just as busy as I am, with troubles of your own."

"You don't need to apologize." He smiled, "You clearly needed to vent, and alcohol isn't a very dependable friend."

She looked away in embarrassment, "I only meant to have one."

"I know."

"Cabot will never let me have another drink again." she snorted.

"It's probably for the best anyway. I'd like to never have to see you in such a state again, Vaelyn." Cullen admitted truthfully, his hand sliding up to squeeze her shoulder lightly.

An idea popped into Cullen's mind then, Vaelyn watching as he heaved himself up off the sofa to stand in front of her, one of his hands held out, beckoning her. She stared at it curiously, unsure of his intention.

"Humor me." He smiled.

Vaelyn took his hand tentatively, and he pulled her up and away to the more open space of the chamber, a strong arm hooked around her waist bringing her in, his other free hand took hold of hers; and then he began, leading them into a dance.

Her mind reeled, not expecting such a thing from Cullen, but the effect was instantaneous. All her worries and sadness and pains were stripped from her, leaving her unburdened.

"I thought you said you couldn't dance." She asked as he spun them around.

"Can't and won't are not the same," he laughed, "I had no desire to dance with those maddening Orlesian nobles."

"I suppose not." She laughed with him.

They fell into a content silence, their dance eventually devolving into a slow swaying motion, Cullen holding her in his arms, her head resting in the crook of his neck; enjoying each others company.

"I really don't deserve your kindness," she murmured, her breath tickling the sensitive skin of his neck, causing him to shiver.

"On the contrary, you deserve all the kindness I can spare." He confessed. "You are important to the Inquisition, and to me. Let us be the rock you lean on when the world starts bearing down on you." Cullen cursed himself inwardly, not wanting to make such an admission so soon.

Vaelyn's heart raced as his words sank in. "I-...Thank you."

* * *

The sun slowly crept its way into the chamber through the windows, the birds chirped happily, and the residents of Skyhold bustled around outside with purpose below.

Upon the sofa Cullen sat slumped in a corner asleep, his armor, cloak, and boots shed upon the floor leaving him in his shirt and breeches. Pillowed against his side, and head upon his chest lay the Inquisitor, she too deep in restful sleep.

Leliana smiled at the picture that lay before her.

She'd let them be, the war council could wait.

She left as quietly as she came.

* * *

**Notes:**

**So a couple things here. **

**I hate how the Dragon Age developers made Dwarves. I hate it. They are literally just short chubby humans, and in just about everything ever, where Dwarves are present, they have their own Dwarvy accent, and thus I made Cabot have one in this chapter. **

**The other thing is I strongly disliked how the Winter Palace things played out if you romanced Cullen, and the cut scene was horrendous as well. I wanted to stay as close to cannon but I just couldn't let myself be OK with that for this story.**

**Lastly, Alcoholism is _bad_ kids. Don't do it.**


	5. Demons

**Chapter Inspiration:** **Demons - Imagine Dragons**

* * *

"You know, if you take much longer _I_ may come along and steal away the Commander." Dorian remarked, taking a seat at the table where the Inquisitor was eating her breakfast.

Vaelyn coughed, trying not to choke on the eggs she just stuffed into her mouth.

_Cough_. "What are-" _Hack_. "-you on about, Dorian" Her eyes watered as bits of egg aggravated her throat.

"Playing coy, are we?" Dorian winked at her.

"Truly, I've no idea what you're talking about." Her words muffled as she took a sip of juice from her goblet.

Dorian turned to raise a brow at Vaelyn, disbelief scribbled all over his face. "You _can't_ be serious, surely."

"No, really, I've not a single clue as to what you're referring." She said adamantly, taking a bite of fruit.

"So, if I _were_ to steal him...you wouldn't have a care in the world?" Dorian asked quizzically, brows furrowing as he tried to figure the Inquisitor out.

Vaelyn snorted as she took another sip from her cup, juice nearly shooting out her nose. "Cullen is as straight as the blade of his sword, the same blade that he would not hesitate to cut you down with if you ever attempted it." She snickered.

"You may have a point," he chuckled. "You really don't realize do you?"

"Realize what?" She asked dumbly, shooting him a curious glance.

"The way he looks at you when you're running around doing inquisitorial things. Haven't you noticed that amorous sparkle he gets in his eyes when you go to speak to him?"

_Amorous? _Vaelyn narrowed her eyes, "what do you mean?"

"Perhaps it's closer to admiration," Dorian corrected. "When you come around he perks up like a really happy puppy. It's absolutely sickening." He laughed, quite amused with himself.

"Glad you think so highly of the Commander, and your ridiculous hatred of dogs is out of control."

"I assure you, my lady, my hatred is well placed." Stealing a piece of fruit off her plate, Dorian stood and bowed. "I'll not bother you further, it's already late in the morning and I'm in need of a stiff drink."

Vaelyn shook her head in amusement, Dorian sure had a way with keeping things interesting when he was around. His words swam around in her mind though, drumming up past occurrences, uncertain if his statements were credible. In the further reaches of her mind, Vaelyn was trying to convince herself that maybe they were true.

When it came to her own feelings towards Cullen, she was doubtless.

Vaelyn shook the thoughts from her mind, determined to get some work done before having to return to the field again. She quickly finished her breakfast and set out on her errands.

The first half of the morning felt unproductive.

The masons were complaining the remainder of the work that needed to be done, to fully restore Skyhold to its former magnificence, would not be completed on account of the foundations being insecure. They feared that micro fractures could cause half the keep to fall into itself, and down the mountain side.

Vaelyn wasted an hour arguing with the masons that having a massive hole in the prison was not a good thing, no matter what the prisoners confined in the cells had done. It took another hour to figure out the best way to close up the gaping maw, and to refurbish unusable cells. Thankfully, convincing them to deal with other smaller repairs around the keep was a breeze.

She could already feel a migraine coming on when it was time to visit Horsemaster Dennet. He ripped into her like a scavenger to a corpse. The Dracolisk — that some Inquisition scouts discovered during reconnaissance and returned to Skyhold — seemed to have it out for the old man, much to Vaelyn's amusement. Under the premise of _'bothering the horses', _she discovered that the creature had become quite fond of Dennet, much to his protests.

Vaelyn made sure to stop by the stall where the Dracolisk was kept, sneaking her a bit of meat, rubbing the soft, sandy colored underside of the creatures neck; she was absolutely loyal to Vaelyn despite her fascination with the Horsemaster.

Satisfied her dealings at the stables were settled, Vaelyn left to find the requisitions officer, Dennet not allowing her to leave without the parchment scribbled with the stables needs.

By mid-day, Vaelyn had completed all the tasks she had written down mentally, some of them she ended up adding along the way; such as telling Cole to stop tormenting people. She now found her self on the terrace that overlooked the garden, and some of the courtyard; the same courtyard that was currently filled with rehabilitating soldiers whom we're injured in action. Cullen wandered around pairs of soldiers, observing them and correcting when needed.

Vaelyn leaned against the wall and allowed her mind to drift back to earlier in the morning, to what Dorian had said, and to thoughts o f Cullen. Her opinion of the Commander slowly morphed over these many days, since their arrival at Skyhold; now finding herself yearning for his touch, craving his attention, dreaming of the day that their relationship would become something less platonic. Oh how she _wished_ to steal a kiss from those lips she adored so much.

She scowled, somewhat embarrassed at her thoughts. She was acting like a silly love struck admirer.

Vaelyn observed Cullen safely from her perch, he seemed tired lately; the bags under his eyes were starting to make themselves known. His skin looked pallid, and she was unsure, but it seemed he was looking a bit on the gaunt side. Days like these were rare, days when the Inquisition wasn't running around like a chicken with its head cut off. While yes, they had been very busy lately, what with gathering as much power as they could scrape together, it wasn't enough to cause what she saw in Cullen now.

"Admiring the Commander now, are we?" Leliana commented, startling Vaelyn out of her audit of Cullen.

"I-I...uhh. No! why would I be doing that?" She stammered, quickly tearing her gaze away from the courtyard.

Leliana held the Inquisitor with a knowing look, but said nothing more on the matter. "He looks a bit thin, don't you think?"

"I have noticed it—there's nothing wrong is there?" Vaelyn asked, curiously. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach.

The nightingale looked down into the courtyard now, a sad look in her eyes. She followed Leliana's line of sight, falling upon Cassandra leaning back against a wall, scrutinizing Cullen as his training session went on.

_What could Cassandra's role be in all this?_

The clue was a subtle one, but before Vaelyn could pry into the mystery, Leliana was no longer standing next to her. She let her stare drift back, now inspecting the Seeker; Cassandra's expression remained passive, appearing aloof to any on looker. When she went from passive to disapproval Vaelyn's focus changed, there was...pain? Or something of the sort emanating from Cullen. The soldiers he dismissed seemed to avoid him, they too studying his strange reaction carefully.

The sudden end to their training session had them curious. It must have been what Cassandra was irritated about, but _why_?

The Seeker marched right over to Cullen, giving him a piece of her mind. Their voices were raised, almost yelling, Vaelyn couldn't hear what they were speaking about. She never was good at reading lips. The Commander was having none of her tongue lashing though, he stormed off leaving Cassandra in the courtyard seething.

The next morning found Vaelyn with nothing useful to do, aside from aimlessly wandering around. Days when she had no real work to be done around the citadel, she longed to be out in the field helping people, fighting off Corypheus and his forces. There even seemed to be a calm in enemy activity, the scout reports all came back with no new information on enemy movements. She doubted that they were all on vacation somewhere.

Once again, she was up on the terrace that looked down into the garden, and partially into the courtyard. The sun was just peaking over the walls, shedding light onto the life within and chasing away the shadows. Two figures sitting at a table under the gazebo caught her attention as she rested against the stone railing.

Cullen and Dorian were battling it out in a game of chess, it was a bit early for them to be going at it, Vaelyn noted. The glamorous mage always insisted on his beauty sleep, so it was surprising to her that Dorian was up and awake so early. Cullen on the other hand, always seemed to be up this early, she wondered briefly if he ever slept at all, especially now since the Inquisition was able to get a moment of reprieve. No one really seemed to rest these days.

Movement from the gazebo recaptured her attention — Dorian stood up and stretched upwards, while Cullen reset the board for a fresh game. He could barely hear the distant murmurs of whatever sort of conversation they had, but it looked like it was serious. The mage's face fell into one of concern, it was difficult to see from her vantage point. Cullen's shoulders slumped as he leaned back into his chair, rubbing his face, trying to hide himself behind his gloved hand.

Cullen only rubbed his face like when he was wrong or if he'd misspoken. His weary posture had her more concerned, paired with the way he had looked yesterday during his session with the rehabilitating soldiers, there was something eating away at him. Chipping him away bit by bit.

She was going to get to the bottom of this, one way or another.

Vaelyn didn't see Cullen for the rest of the day, not even showing up to the quick council session that was held on account of some information that was received concerning the Lord Seeker's whereabouts.

* * *

As the week progressed, Vaelyn saw less and less of Cullen; to the extent where she hadn't see him at all. She even went out her way to hunt for him on several occasions to make sure he was even still alive. Vaelyn was becoming more distressed as each day passed.

By the time she decided to go straight to the person who might know — Cassandra — Vaelyn's mood had become foul enough to rival that of the most fearsome high dragon. She had no patience to deal with any person or thing that felt brave enough to stand in her way. No one had a pressing desire to interrupt the Inquisitor as she stalked her way down from the keep, searching for the Seeker.

Vaelyn nearly had two soldiers shaking in their boots, praying to the Maker before she finally located Cassandra. She threw the door to the forge open harshly, startling the smiths and causing the Seeker to whirl around, eyes narrowed.

"Where is _he_?" Vaelyn demanded coolly.

"Of whom are we speaking?"

The inquisitor took several longs strides to stand before Cassandra, mere inches away. "Cullen. _Where_ is he?"

The Seeker took a brief moment to study Vaelyn, her strange behavior was curious. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters because there is _something_ going on, and I have a feeling that you're apart of it!" She growled accusingly.

Cassandra pressed her lips into a firm line and countered pointedly."What makes you think I have anything to do with what you're accusing me of, Inquisitor?"

"I saw you not long ago, in the courtyard with Cullen, you didn't seem very thrilled with him."

_Surely the Herald was not referring to the incident earlier in the week, _she thought to herself. She was merely doing the job she was tasked with; but of course Vaelyn would know nothing of the arrangement between Cassandra and Cullen.

How could she have when it was made shortly after Cullen was given a position within the ranks of the soon to be inquisition. Cassandra was certain that the outburst she was experiencing from the Herald now, was one of born of concern, she would have to explain herself lest the situation came to blows; such actions were not easily brushed away when dealing with the Inquisitor.

"You are right of course," Cassandra started, rubbing at her temples with a tired sigh. "I was _disappointed_ in the Commander. You must understand that my disappointment was well founded." Before Vaelyn could open her mouth the Seeker shot a hand up to interrupt her next tirade.

"I shouldn't be telling you this — as it is not my business to share such information — after the atrocity in Kirkwall had been dealt with, by the Champion and company side by side the templars, I recruited some of the remnants of the uprising; Commander Cullen was one of those people. He had just assumed the rank of Knight-Commander, trying to establish some amount of sanity in the city, when I found him. After all that he had been through up to that point, he was determined to leave the life that had caused him so much grief in the first place." She paused.

Vaelyn's anger slowly began to recede as she listened to Cassandra's story, feeling a little embarrassed that she'd become so furious without knowing what was really happening.

"When Cullen accepted my offer, he insisted that he no longer wished to be associated with the order. He began to wean himself off lyrium, slowly at the start, taking less and less as time went on. He has stopped taking it entirely."

The Inquisitor was finding it difficult to form sentences that didn't make her sound like a worried, jealous idiot. "I-I didn't...So, that morning in the courtyard...?"

"He was allowing the lyrium withdrawal to crawl under his skin. It was my responsibility to set him straight." Cassandra relaxed more now, knowing that Vaelyn wasn't ready to run her through with a sharp object. "He, like many templars, do not show their suffering in regards to lyrium addiction. Cullen insists that he is not strong enough to free himself of those chains, however. He asked me to keep an eye on him. That is all, Inquisitor."

Vaelyn took a moment to soak it all in, placing the puzzle pieces in their spots, making sure nothing else was missing. She'd of never guessed that Cullen was going through such hardship. In a way she was hurt that he didn't confide in her the way she had in him on many occasions in the past. "Why wasn't I informed of the matter?"

"It had little to do with anyone else." Cassandra said firmly, but her expression softened, "when the Commander grew closer to you, he begged me not to tell you."

Vaelyn wanted to argue, Cassandra knew, she saw it in her eyes; and if she was in the same position as the Inquisitor she would want to protest as well. She was not good with comforting others, but she tried anyway. "I know that it may seem like you were slighted in some way, but trust me when I say that the Commander's faith in my abilities was not misplaced, nor should you feel as though it was."

Vaelyn resisted the urge to hug Cassandra then; she always found it hard to talk to the Seeker in this manner. It was refreshing, and it felt nice, and she would endeavor to talk with the other woman more openly. "Will he be...alright?"

"I do not know. When last we spoke he was not convinced that he'd be able to continue to resist the philter. I have not seen him since." Cassandra spoke honestly.

"You haven't bothered to check up on him?" Vaelyn scowled.

The Seeker's eyes flashed but she remained passive, "It's not like I have not checked in on him, he hates it when I hover."

He definitely hated it when she hovered, he avoided her like the plague.

"Since you know everything now, I believe that if anything could strengthen his resolve on the matter, it's _you_."

* * *

Vaelyn pushed the door slowly, peering onto the darkness of Cullen's office, the only light coming in from the window behind his desk. It was silent, nothing seemed out of place as far as she could tell, Cullen didn't seem to be present. She ventured on into the room, latching the door shut behind her; the light from the window was poor at best, there was a crunch and then she very nearly tripped over a wooden box.

"_Shit!" _Vaelyn stood stock-still, listening for any movement on the floor above. When she heard nothing, she made her way over to the ladder, taking care not to trip over anything else that maybe lying in wait for her feet.

The wood of the ladder groaned as she made her ascent, its rebelliousness was keen on giving her away.

Fortunately there were no signs that she had been noticed. Upon reaching the top, she allowed herself to peek over the top of the floor. The upper room was as dark as the floor below, but the window up here was larger and let in more light. From where she was, Vaelyn spotted a battered trunk set underneath the window, the silly cloak sitting on top, all his armor piled unceremoniously next to it, there was a bedside table sitting next to the bed.

There on the bed a figure lay sleeping.

_Cullen._

Vaelyn heaved her self up onto second floor, moving closer and closer. Sudden shift of the sheets and distressed noises of a nightmare escaping his mouth had her stone still with bated breath, waiting for him to notice that he was no longer the only one in his quarters.

When that moment never came to pass, she let out a shaky breath and crept the rest of the distance to the edge of the bed.

Cullen's shirt was soaked with sweat, his face was contorted, pained; his breathing was uneasy. The sheets were tangled around his body, evidence of a fitful sleep. Vaelyn sat down next to his prone form, eyes roaming over him, noticing the bags under his eyes had grown darker, his skin still so pale and sickly. Her heart ached to hold him close, to heal the wounds of his own heart.

His body began to shiver violently, another night terror set upon him relentlessly, and she tried to wake him, shifting to her knees leaning over him, putting her hands on his shoulders and then shaking him as hard as she dared to. None of her attempts to rouse him seemed to be having an effect; there was one thing she hadn't thought of, though it had been a very long time since she had to wake her own brother from a similar state. Since this was Cullen that now lay before her and not her brother, Vaelyn was a little nervous, but she _had_ to do something for the Commander's sake.

_Consequences be damned!_

Vaelyn quickly pulled her boots off and tossed them to the floor, crawling back up to Cullen just as he rolled to his side, groaning unintelligible babble, unconsciously making her job a bit easier. Vaelyn settled herself beside him, pulling his tense body towards her, arranging them out of a potential uncomfortable position, and tucked his head underneath hers; his uneasy breaths puffing into the skin of her neck.

When the spasms of terror ceased, she continued to hold onto him for dear life.

She drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Cullen felt unusually calm.

There was a welcoming warmth pressed into his body, and he could hear the calm, steady heart beat of another. He was still groggy, but he was quite certain that when he threw himself into the solace of his bed, there had been no other person there with him.

_Maker's breath! _He snapped to full alertness, carefully trying to untangle himself from the sheets that were intent on keeping him bound in his bed, and the intruder that lay sleeping.

Now able to sit up properly, Cullen wiped the remainder of sleep from his eyes, focusing his gaze down upon the invader. Night had fallen over their little piece of the world, and he found it difficult to put a name to the shadow, as the room was now pitch black. So he did the next best thing, shook them awake.

"Whaassit?" A feminine voice grumbled, slapping away the offending hands.

He recognized that voice, but poked the mass for good measure.

"_Maferath's balls_! Would you knock it off..." She growled sleepily.

"_Vaelyn_?!" He whispered heatedly. "What in the nine hells are doing here?"

"Worried." She breathed out simply, making no move to get up.

Cullen mouth gaped for a moment and he stared down, glaring into the darkness, grateful that the darkness had hid him as well. He wanted to be angry at her for such a breach of privacy, but could not find the strength inside of himself to do so.

"What could you have possibly been worried about that's made you sneak into my bed?" He inquired, still angry, poking her again.

Vaelyn wiggled away from the attacking appendage and grumbled, "You looked like a corpse...cornered Cassandra."

An iceberg plummeted into his gut at her admission. She knew. Cassandra had wavered, and now Vaelyn knew. Cullen began to panic, he had no desire to allow anyone, much less the Inquisitor to see him in such a weakened state. As much as he hated to admit it, he was vulnerable and now...

The springs in the bed creaked as Vaelyn pulled her self up off the bed into a sitting position. He felt a hand rest gently upon his shoulder, it slid up his neck, and cupped his cheek lightly and her thumb caressed his skin tenderly.

"Are you angry with me?" She addressed him quietly, more awake than she had been only moments ago.

"I-I..."_ No._ He swallowed thickly. "No."

"Yet, you kept this from me." She replied, voice heavy with morose. "Were you embarrassed by the thought of me knowing?"

Again no. It took Cullen a long moment to find the words to explain himself to her. "I-I was afraid that you'd think less of me, for abandoning the order, for running away. I am weak." His voice cracked and he tried to pull away from her, but she moved to hook her fingers behind his neck and held him there.

"Cullen," Vaelyn said softly, "How could I ever think any less of you, for all that you have done for me and for the Inquisition. For yourself."

He found himself speechless in her presence.

"You don't deserve to wallow in self-pity and doubt. You are strong—so very strong. So brave. You don't give yourself enough credit." She whispered kindly, he could hear the smile in her voice.

Cullen choked back a sob. He would not break down, not in front of her, he vowed vehemently.

Vaelyn leaned in and pressed her forehead against his, her free hand gripping his shoulder to steady herself. "Are you listening to me, Cullen?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"You are strong enough to break these lyrium chains, and to move on from what ever dark past that holds you back." She encouraged. "Never. Ever. Let yourself think otherwise."

Her words held so much truth in them, he could do nothing but pull Vaelyn into his chest, hugging her as tightly as he dared, sobbing many years worth of concealed sorrow into her shoulder now. And she held him, and held him until he had no more strength to weep.

"Better?" Vaelyn asked after a long while, pulling back away from him.

"I'm not sure." He answered, his voice hoarse.

Vaelyn tugged him down onto the bed, situating them again into a similar position they had been in earlier. "Maybe you'll be more sure once you've had a proper nights rest." Vaelyn chuckled, pressing her lips into his mussed hair.

He was so exhausted, and the warmth seeping into his weary bones had him falling into the depths of a dreamless sleep, the likes of which he hadn't seen since his childhood.

Cullen knew then that he had fallen for her.

* * *

**Notes-**

**Yep, this is a few days later than I wanted, but between distractions and the constant, annoying cough I've had, writing ended up being a bit arduous.**

**Any who. Barring all the trials and tribulations I had writing this, I thought it turned out pretty well. I especially enjoyed writing the later portions of this chapter. **

**And if you haven't been checking out the song titles I've been posting up at the top, I highly recommend it. Music is a big big inspiration to my writing process. They are all safe to listen to!**


	6. Universe

**Chapter inspiration: Eminence - Universe (feat. Meron Ryan)**

* * *

Blood spattered onto the sand laden stone floor.

Vaelyn pulled her blade from the limp body of a Venatori mage, satisfied with the sickening squelch as it slid out of the meaty sheath.

They had finally cleared out the last of the scum hiding behind the dunes and the sporadic sand storms and the ruins that dotted the desolate land.

It wasn't so bad, they weren't walking away completely empty handed after all. The Dwarven ruins held quite a few magical trinkets and old knowledge; things that would no longer be in danger of falling into the hands of the enemy. She'd be ecstatic if she never had to see another grain of sand ever again.

"I think that's the last of them," she said conversationally, using the raggedy robe on the corpse to clean her sword. "Though, you can _never_ be sure with vermin."

"Ha! We can always go back and fight that dragon, boss." Bull remarked jovially.

"I vote that we leave that over grown lizard be." Varric grumbled, Dorian adding a, "I concur." for good measure.

Vaelyn shook her head in amusement and bent down to check the other corpses for useful items. "Not gonna piss off a dragon today boys, I'd like to get home in one piece _and_ in a timely fashion."

"Is that so?" Varric perked up and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Are you attending a secret rendezvous?"

"I...well," knowing full well that Varric would catch her in a lie, Vaelyn opted for a half truth instead "Perhaps."

Dorian shot her a knowing look. They were trudging about in a bleeding desert for maker's sake! Yet her love life, or lack there of, was the center of fascination.

_Absolutely incorrigible, _Vaelyn thought, rolling her eyes at Bull who insisted on making lewd jokes at her expense, although his visual aids nearly had her sides splitting in laughter.

She had made no such plans with Cullen, but if they ever managed to get out of the Hissing Wastes, Maker allowing, Vaelyn was _going_ to make plans.

Her nose crinkled then in disgust. Before she did anything, she was going to push off cleaning her armor onto some poor unfortunate soul; it was caked in blood and sand and sweat.

She aimed to hole up in a bath tub for as long as she could as well; assuming the smell that encompassed her, which had baked into her skin during their time under the relentless sun, would even leave her. It was as bad as the state of her armor, comparable to the inside of a mausoleum rife with putrefaction. She did all she could to hold back the powerful urge to retch, blinking away tears of revulsion, walking aloof to the rest of the group.

"So about that bet, Varric," Dorian pipped up as the party made their way out of the Dwarven carved cavern.

"You ready to make a bet Sparkler?"

"Ten silver on the Commander, I think." Dorian said casually.

"Whoa ho ho, really!" Varric chuckled incredulously, "You're pretty confident considering that the odds are six to one in favor of our fearless leader. You sure you wanna make that bet?"

"Ha! where's the fun in making the easy bet, my good dwarf? Don't count out the Commander just yet."

Vaelyn chose to ignore their banter; it was probably in her best interest not knowing what they were betting on and how many in the Inquisition were in on it. Still, she was curious as it concerned both her and Cullen. It couldn't be anything innocent she reasoned, not when Varric was keeping the book.

The few days it took to make the return journey to Skyhold were calm and uneventful; just how Vaelyn liked it. The mission was daunting and she felt absolutely drained by the time their group made it across the long bridge and into the courtyard of the Inquisition's citadel, all she wanted to do was crawl into a bed or a cot even a hay pile if it meant she could get proper rest.

As she went to dismount, the pungent smell that clung tightly to her person was wafted into her face by the gentle breeze that began to pick up; throwing her into another fit of retching. She lost her grip on the saddle and her leg twisted awkwardly in the stirrup when she tried correcting herself, sending her backwards.

"Oh sh—!" Vaelyn inhaled sharply and held her breath, expecting to hit the ground hard.

Two strong arms caught her and she was no longer falling and Vaelyn closed her eyes tight, releasing the breath she held. Her savior maneuvered around her and freed up an arm so that they could untangle her foot from the snaring stirrup without dropping her.

"Are you alright?" Cullen asked as he steadied her.

She opened her eyes and allowed herself another few cleansing breaths before turning to face him, sending a short nod his way.

Vaelyn became very aware of the proximity of herself and the Commander, her face flushed with embarrassment. She was smelly and grimy and Cullen had to have seen her reaction when her body decided to try and kill itself.

She quickly stepped away putting some distance between them, if he had gotten a whiff of her, she wasn't sure — a more thorough observation revealed a glimmer in his eye and it told her he found her antics amusing, and the twitch at the corner of his mouth expressed that he was trying not to laugh.

Vaelyn was a little mortified and she attempted to admonish him, but the words never came and she stared at him dumbly as her mouth tried to form silent phrases.

Cullen chuckled, "If that is all my lady, I'll let Josephine and Leliana know that the mission debriefing can wait until you're more...presentable." He turned to head up to the keep.

"Actually," halting Cullen's escape. "How busy do you think you'll be tomorrow evening?"

Vaelyn was a little flustered but she wanted to be forward with him and she recognized the way Cullen knitted his brow when something piqued his curiosity — the same way he did now as he studied her carefully.

Cullen mulled over the inquiry for a moment trying to decipher the true meaning of the question, "Well I'm sure that I could make time if something important were to, ah... come up."

She bit her cheek hard to curb her elation and her eyes lit up like she was the cat that got into the cream. "If you end up having some free time, maybe...if you'd want to that is—you could join me for dinner. In my quarters, for uh—," She trailed off like the fool she struggled to not be.

This was nothing like her envisioned conversation. _Very smooth__. _

"I uh, appreciate the thought, Inquisitor," Cullen raised a hand up to rub the back of his neck, picking his words delicately, "but I'm not sure that dinner is that important. Perhaps some other time?"

He merely observed as a typhoon of expressions passed over her, they too came and went just as quickly as the excitement had. He smiled apologetically and left her standing there as he retreated.

Dorian swept up beside her when she stood alone and watched the Commander climb up the stairs to the keep. "That went swimmingly and you were _absolutely _charming. You have a way with matters of the heart, I dare say."

"_Shut up._" Vaelyn hissed venomously, resisting her desire to shake him violently.

Dorian threw his head back and laughed, sauntering off before the Inquisitor could dole out punishment.

Instead of storming off and shutting herself away like she wanted to, Vaelyn turned her attention to the Dracolisk that was nudging at her shoulder impatiently. Keeping her self calm while tending to the mount was an arduous undertaking at first, as she had a tendency to replace embarrassment with anger; she quickly slipped into a contemplative state.

Doubts fluttered across the fore of her thoughts, wondering if he was oblivious to her attentions or if perhaps he found her affections _unpleasant _and hadn't figured out how to let her down easy.

With her mount settled she brushed off her disheartened musings and headed towards her quarters, but not before having some poor attendant retrieve her fetid gear for cleaning, and having another fill the tub Josephine had procured for her apartment.

While she soaked in the near scalding water the afternoon's thoughts crawled back into her mind.

Vaelyn reflected on her actions and her own clumsy words and then over Cullen's reactions and his unexpected refusal. Something didn't sit right with her; she had nearly killed herself by her own..._stink_ – yet the Commander did not seem at all repulsed by her messy state when he had so valiantly saved her from that wretched stirrup.

_Why did his demeanor show the opposite of his words? _Vaelyn scrunched her face at the thought; mind boggled by the mystery, but a fire sparked within her – a determination fueled by her adoration for him.

She wasn't at all content with Cullen turning her down.

So the next evening she witnessed Cullen railing in through her door – which miraculously stayed intact considering the force of the Commander's entry – and it took much of Vaelyn's self control to keep from grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Is everything alright?" She asked with just a touch of concern.

"I–uh," The ex-Templar was breathless and his hair was a little mussed from his frantic sprint up the tower. "Is everything – are you ok?"

"Fine, I think. Are _you _ok?" She said assuredly and turned the question back on him.

"Of course..." Cullen looked thoroughly embarrassed now with his cheeks colored pink with an arm up rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes averted.

Vaelyn's heart thundered in her chest as she coaxed the words from her throat that would get him to stay. "Since you're here now, maybe you'll humor me and stay for dinner?"

The request brought his gaze to hers and he went still, considering the offer. There was no disgust or disinterest written on his features and Vaelyn was inwardly cheering when Cullen finally nodded his acceptance to her dinner proposal.

She made an effort to have her desk cleared off specially for this evening, trying to move a proper table up the winding staircase proved to be a difficult feat in theory and thus is was left as just that, theory. There was plenty of surface space for the both of them and the light meal she snagged from the kitchens. Everything couldn't have been more perfect, and she took note that Cullen was more than happy to talk about something beyond the inner workings of the Inquisition and battle strategy – the questions about her personally caught her off guard.

A Trevelyan always gave as good as they got; simple yet mischievous comments about Templar vows and celibacy had Cullen stumbling over his words as he attempted to explain, albeit awkwardly, that _he_ was never so devout.

The next dinner invitation came a couple days later and Cullen was more than happy to accept, even more so when Vaelyn produced an antique chess board after their meal. She was never very good at it, such in-depth strategy was lost to her, but she was quite content with losing if it meant seeing that crooked grin play at the corner of the ex-Templar's lips.

Their conversation held few of the same topics as the previous did and many new ones, Vaelyn recounted the instances where she enraged her mother with a reenactment of some grandiose duel from a book her father had given her, or the single time she visited Kirkwall at the age of ten and got lost in Lowtown.

She explained, for the first time since Haven, how she ended up at the conclave before the temple imploded with fade energy; grandma Trevelyan was insistent that Vaelyn accompany her, and she was all too happy to oblige. Cullen silently comforted her, squeezing her hand gently, scaring away any remaining guilt she had over the traumatic event.

When the third dinner request arrived it was Cullen who started their conversation, tentatively at first, with stories of his childhood before going off to join the Order. Like he had done for her, she merely listened as he regaled both the happier and bleaker times of his service to the Templars from back during his days in Kinloch Hold to those days he spent in Kirkwall.

It was Vaelyn's turn to rest a hand over his, an action that he had preformed almost a week ago. "You didn't have to tell me, you know." She said quietly, tracing little circles on his knuckles with her thumb.

Cullen found the motion entrancing, discovering that he could easily lose himself in the tenderness of the gesture. "It's been a _very_ long time... perhaps too long – It's nice not having those particular memories feel so–so suffocating."

There was a distinct relief in his voice, as if some void deep within was finally appeased.

She reluctantly released Cullen's hand and picked up her goblet – which was filled with some sweet non-alcoholic blackberry concoction courtesy of Cabot – and made her way out onto the balcony that loomed above the main courtyard. The crisp mountain air was refreshing despite it nipping at uncovered flesh, Cullen following suit had her covered in goose pimples; abrupt nervousness pooled in her belly.

"After everything that I've been through, I never thought I would live long enough to get a second chance."

"A second chance?" She mumbled into her cup. As she went to take a sip Cullen plucked the goblet from her hand and set it on the balustrade, far enough away where it wouldn't be knocked off onto an unsuspecting passerby.

Vaelyn's pulse quickened considerably, her knees went weak as Cullen pulled her to him firmly and pressed their mouths together for the first time.

The roughness of his chapped lips and the scruffiness of his three o'clock shadow had her turning to putty in his arms. There were many nights where she dreamed of exactly this, of kissing him and she had it all figured out; her reprisal to his assault and the words she would speak after they had finally come up for air. None of that seemed relevant now, or it wouldn't have seemed relevant if she could actually remember any of it.

Cullen was unpracticed in his kissing, his movements were sloppy and a bit unsure; what he lacked in experience he made up with vigor as he devoured her mouth. Vaelyn savored every fleeting second of it.

She was unaware when he finally managed to pry himself away, but she felt her mouth droop into frown and only when he spoke again did her eyes flutter open.

"Something wrong?" He stared into her emerald pools with a glimmer of worry in his own.

"You stopped." Vaelyn stated matter-of-factly earning a chuckle from him. "What did you mean by second chance?"

There was a pregnant pause as he pondered the best way to answer, Vaelyn playing with his errant strands of blonde curly hair was not the least bit helpful. "A story for another time I think."

He knew that he had only temporarily sated her curiosity, this was their moment after all and not one of love long past.

Another question. "How long have you been wanting to do that?"

"Far longer than I care to admit and I may have acted sooner if Varric hadn't waylaid me first." He confessed.

"So then you declining me..." Vaelyn narrowed her eyes as she followed that thought.

And Cullen finished it, "...was Varric's doing."

The absolute glee in knowing she had foiled that conniving dwarf's manipulations was electric down her spine; Cullen could guess from the euphoric grin spread on her face that she indeed had something to do with his distraught sprint up the tower only a handful of nights ago.

He couldn't have been happier.

Before Vaelyn could utter another word on the matter, Cullen leaned in and pressed their mouths together again.


End file.
